5 times Scott helps the pack and 1 time they help him
by cherryblossom1999
Summary: Scott's all good with giving all he's got into helping the pack. What he doesn't seem to realise is that they feel the same way for him.


**5 times Scott helps the pack and one time they help him.**

**This is my very first Teen Wolf fic, so yay! The main ships are Sterek and Scisaac. Yea. **

**Reviews are appreciated, rated M for language, but no explicit sexual scenes. **

**Each chapter has different characters. **

Chapter One: STILES

Scott's reading _To Kill a Mockingbird _when his phone rings. He's irritated, and tired, and rather sad because he didn't want the book to turn out this way, and it's _2:07 AM, _so of _course _Stiles chooses now to ring him.

Because he never purposefully ignores a call – someone could be dying! – and because he's such an awesome friend, he picks it up after the second ring.

"What's the matter? Is someone dying?" He blurts out into the phone, wincing because if someone really _was _dead, then that would be such an insensitive thing to say.

There is silence on the other end, and for a second Scott's heart stutters and falters and he puts down his book, because was someone actually dead? Oh, God, what if it was Stiles, or anyone, even Derek or _Isaac_, and he ignores the way heat curls inside him at the thought of Isaac, because that doesn't matter right now, because someone could be dead.

"What? No!" Stiles says, sounding rather panicky. "Why? Is something going on?"

Scott sighs, relieved, and runs a hand through his hair, which he absent-mindedly notices is getting quite long. "No, nothing."

"Then why ask?!"

Stiles sounds irritated now, and Scott can hear a lot of background noise.

"Doesn't matter," he replies, frowning. "Where are you? It's really loud."

"You're an idiot, Scott," Stiles mutters, but he sounds fond, so Scott grins. "I'm in my Jeep."

"Uh." Scott says, because he really is an idiot, but it's okay because Stiles is a genius and an idiot in equal measures, they balance themselves out, and it's 2:07- no wait, 2:10 am. "Why?"

"Having a birthday party, dumbass! Why do you think? I'm driving."  
"No, yeah, I know," Scott replies hastily, because no matter what some people may think, he's not _that _stupid. "I mean, where are you going? It's late, there's school tomorrow and Stiles, you really should not be on the phone while driving. Is your belt on?"

He's swivelling on his chair now, wheeling around his room, and he tells himself that he should probably stop because he's making quite a bit of noise and his mom might wake up.

He stops.

"Are you serious?" Stiles snaps over the line. "Of all the things to worry about, you're concerned about my driving? There's been freaky werewolves and shape shifters and a Kanima and Jackson was a weird gross lizard thing and you worry about my _seatbelt?_"

…

"Well," Scott starts swivelling again. "It worked out okay, didn't it, Jackson's good, him and Lydia are once again a thing, Derek's grumpy, and everyone's fine! But, you know. Road safety. And you totally ignored my question. Where are you going?"

"_Road safety,_" Stiles repeats incredulously, but Scott just waits, so his best friend just sighs and continues. "I'm going home. I was just at Derek's, and before you ask, I was just visiting, and the reason it's loud is because it's raining, like really hard, and I'm bored and driving, so that's why I called. And also, I'm hungry."

Scott is momentarily confused by the idea of Stiles visiting Derek because when did _that _happen- but then he's distracted by the sound of tires squealing and a massive crashing sound echoing from the phone.

Scott leaps out of his chair, sending it tumbling to the ground, and now he's panicking, like really panicking.

"Stiles!" he yells. "Stiles, stiles, stiles, what was that, are you okay, Stiles?! Stiles! Stiles, don't die, you're not allowed, Stiles, Stillllessssssss!"

"Oh my god, shut up," a voice groans, and Scott nearly doubles over with relief, because he's known that voice his whole life.  
"Stiles? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," his best friend is murmuring, but his voice sounds funny, all clogged up with pain, and Scott's already putting his shoes on. "I'm just- I'm just stuck, I think."

"Stuck?" Scott repeats, snatching his mom's keys and making his way out of the house, not really bothering to be stealthy. It is raining. Shit. Like, really hard. "What do you mean, stuck?"

"Is there another definition of 'stuck' in the English language that I don't know of?!" Stiles groans, and wow, he's pissed, meaning he's probably hurt. "My leg's trapped, and I can't get out of my Jeep, oh no, my Jeep, the poor thing, baby are you okay, ow ow ow, I am in a lot of pain, Scott, I have decided I do not like pain."

"Okay," Scott says, not stammering at all, because he's been through this panic a million times now, and he's trying to pretend like he's used to it even though he's shaking a little, and he knows it's not from the cold. "Okay, you don't like pain, that's good, that's normal, I would be a little concerned if you did like pain, just stay conscious, okay, I'll find you. How far are you?"

"Don't call the ambulance," Stiles tells him, and Scott hesitates, because he was about to do just that. "Don't, it's not that bad, ambulances are gross, just. Find me."

"I will, you know I will. Where are you?"  
"About twenty minutes from Derek's," Stiles says, _finally, _and Scott just goes faster. It's difficult to see through the rain, and it's dark, but he knows the way to Derek's house, and he's going to find his best friend.

"Okay," Scott says again. "I need to hang up, I'm sorry, Stiles, but I need to hang up, and I'm gonna call for back up, okay? Don't do anything stupid – just stay still, okay, Stiles?"

Stiles doesn't even hesitate before saying, "Yeah, okay," and Scott's near boneless with the amount of _trust _that Stiles has in him, and he presses his foot down.

"Stay still," he repeats, and hangs up.

He calls the pack.

Of course he does – he trusts in them more than they know, and they all like Stiles, or at least, have some form of affection for him. It took Jackson a while, though.

Their reactions are varying – Allison gasps a little before she says, "I'm on my way," with such determination in her tone that Scott has to grin a little. Lydia batters him with questions so quickly he nearly can't understand it, but he gets through it and asks her to meet them at Derek's house and call everyone else. In the background, Scott hears Jackson asking her what's going on. She agrees before the call ends with a _click, _and about thirty seconds after that, Derek calls him, snarling and angry, but Scott can make out the worry underneath his words, because human or not, Stiles is pack.

He's nearly there now and he tells Derek so. Derek just grunts into the phone and hangs up on him. Scott helpfully presumes that's Derek-speak for _okay, I'll be there as soon as I can, good work Scott, you're fantastic. _

Anyway. Stiles.

He gets out of the car and shines a torch around even though he doesn't really need it, with his werewolf senses and all. He sniffs, and can make out the scent of sharp blood. The rain has nearly washed it out, but he'd recognize Stiles' scent anywhere.

Scott follows it, and he sees hints of what happened before he comes across Stiles' Jeep crashed head first into a tree.

"Goddamit, Stiles, only you," he says, but he's relieved. He runs over quickly and notes how the hood of the Jeep has crumpled like a tin can. He also notes the steam rising from it with some panic, but that panic is quickly overtaken by more panic when he sees Stiles' slumped form, crumpled just like the hood of his car.

God, there's so much panic today. And it's only, what, 2:30 am.

Panic panic panic.

"Stiles?!" He yells out, and is gratified by the slight jerk of Stiles' head. He runs his hands over him, checking for injuries, and of course, of _course _Stiles has a large cut on his forehead. His leg appears to be trapped under the dashboard, which is bent and twisted out of shape. Maybe a bruised rib, but not broken, hopefully.

"Alright, buddy," Scott's muttering to himself and doesn't really expect Stiles to answer him, but he lifts his head weakly and says, "Scott?" in such a vulnerable voice that Scott stops trying to lift the weight off his leg and just dabs ineffectively at the blood on Stiles' face in some semblance of comfort.

"Hey," He pats Stiles on the cheek twice and resumes trying to free Stiles' leg. He winces when he sees that it point in the entirely wrong direction it should. Scott looks up briefly, smiling when he sees that Stiles has his eyes open. "Good on ya, buddy, stay awake for me. Think of something good, I'll get you outta here in a sec."

"Okay," and Scott flinches when he hears how in pain Stiles sounds. "Okay."

Scott's frustrated now – really annoyed, because Stiles could be _free _if not for this damn dashboard, and he can feel the wolf in him rising.

"Come. On." He grunts, pulling and pushing, just _there, _and he can feel his eyes flare red for a second, and then suddenly, Stiles' leg is free.

"Yes!" he crows, giddy with triumph, and suddenly Derek's there, panting and very, very wet.

"Scott!" He bellows, and he sounds much louder than usual. He's by their side in a flash, and looks like he's going to rip someone's throat out. Then again, he always looks like that.

"Stiles, are you okay?" Derek asks, and Stiles rolls his eyes a little, mutters something like sounds like, "Just peachy, thanks for asking, you giant dick," before passing out.

Scott and Derek share glances before lifting Stiles out of the broken Jeep, Derek grabbing his top half and Scott the bottom, being very careful of his leg.

Scott's so entirely relieved that Stiles isn't dead, or dying, but he looks like he's in danger of bleeding out. There's a lot of blood over his face, and now all over Derek and Scott, and every time the rain washes it away more replaces it.

"Why didn't you call the ambulance?" Derek yells over the rushing water, and Scott just shakes his head. "He asked me not to."

They both know Stiles is a stubborn son of a bitch.

Together, the two alphas get Stiles into the backseat of Scott's mom's car, and they're about to drive back to Derek's house when Allison's car skids to a stop in front of them.

Scott sighs in relief because Allison is more capable than him and Derek put together in his opinion, and she totally proves it when she rushes towards them with towels and bandages and who knows what else.

Together, they drive back to Derek's.

When Stiles wakes up, his head is pounding like crazy. His leg hurts. His back hurts. His neck hurts. A lot of things hurt.

He does a quick check-up of himself and sighs in relief when he's not missing any appendages, particularly in his lower regions. Stiles Stilinski is far too awesome to lose the ability to reproduce. The world wouldn't do without his genes.

It takes him no time at all to adjust his eyes to the light to wake up, partly because there _is no light. _The room is shrouded with darkness, but he can barely make out the silhouettes of Scott, Derek, and Isaac, for some bizarre reason.

They probably turned off the light because they didn't need it.

Fucking werewolves.

Stiles shifts a little in the bed he's in, which he dimly recognizes as Derek's. Huh. They must be in Derek's house, which is strange because he vividly remembers storming out of it. In fact, it's the last thing he remembers. Everything else is a little hazy.

Is he on drugs? It feels like he's on drugs. He's never been on drugs before, but Stiles reckons that this is probably what it would feel like.

"Stiles?"

The voice comes out from the darkness, and Stiles leaps in surprise, nearly falling out of the bed and causing a flare of pain to shoot down his leg. He's very concerned for his groin.

Arms wrap themselves awkwardly around his chest in a matter of seconds, hoisting him back onto the bed and practically giving him another heart attack. The arms are too big to be Scott, and too muscular to be Isaac's, which means they're Derek's.

Well, shit.

"What the _fuck, _Derek," he means to say, only what comes out is a strangled croak. Stiles definitely does not notice how his heart gives a massive fucking jump inside his chest. No. Definitely not.

"Sorry," and it's weird, because Derek actually sounds pretty remorseful. Or, at least, as remorseful as Derek gets. It's only when Stiles is sitting up on the bed and his heart has retreated back to its original area in his chest cavity that Derek takes his hands off him.

Stiles finds himself missing the contact.

Derek finally sits back in the chair that's been conveniently placed beside the bed, and Stiles reaches beside him with shaky hands to turn the lamp on with a soft _click. _

Stiles nearly does a double take when he sees Scott and Isaac on the couch against the wall, Scott sleeping soundly with his head on Isaac's lap. Isaac looks asleep as well, but his fingers are still threading themselves through Scott's abundance of brown locks.

"What." Stiles says.

Derek leans back a little and studies the two werewolves, and if it were anyone other than Eyebrows McBroody, Stiles would swear he looked fond.

The awkwardness in the room is going to kill Stiles. It is going to reach it's tendrils down his throat and choke him and leave him on the floor in a drooling mess.

"Okay," Stiles says, when Derek shows no sign of saying anything, which he really should, because the fight was really all his fault, "Can we, like, do something about this, because seriously this is way too awkward, and I'm sorry, okay, even though it kind of wasn't really my fault, but I seriously cannot deal with the amount of elephants existing in this room, there are elephants everywhere Jesus fucking Christ, on the walls and shit, okay, I'm sorry, so can we just-"

"Oh, my God," Isaac says, without opening his eyes. "Can you shut up?"

Stiles shuts up, partly because Derek looks like he's about to cry and laugh at the same time, and Scott's still asleep with purple rings under his eyes. He breathes out, lets Isaac go back to his creepy Scott-staring, and rests his head against the wall. "What happened?"

"You and your car decided to do a dance with a tree."

Lydia walks into the room with the same sass she always does, Allison walking behind her and Jackson trailing behind as well, looking bored.

"And," she continues, flicking strawberry-blonde ringlets over her shoulder. "You about scared us half to death."

"Your leg is fractured, and you probably have a concussion. Everything else is just cuts and bruises, but they'll ache for a few days. According to Scott's mom." Allison adds hopefully, and now Stiles can remember a screech, tires, rain and blood.

"Scott's mom?"

"Yeah, we called her. You were being a little bitch and not letting us take you to the hospital."

Stiles doesn't even bother responding to Jackson but feels a surge of affection for Scott and his family sweep over him like a tidal wave. "Where is she?"  
"She's sleeping in the other room, after fixing your skinny ass." Lydia snaps, and pushes him firmly down onto the bed, one hand on his chest. He lets out a sound that definitely is not a squeak and glares at Jackson when a corner of his mouth tilts up.

"Shhhhh!" Isaac shushes loudly, and Scott murmurs a little and shifts, curling into Isaac's body.

"Okay. What." Stiles says, _again, _because Scott and Isaac is not something he saw coming. He's not totally coherent, either.

Allison shakes her head wryly.

"He's been fussing over you like you wouldn't believe. Went out in the rain to grab you, too, with Derek. I think he's just exhausted."

She shoots Derek and amused look that no sane person would ever do, but instead of shooting her his infamous _I will slice you into pieces using my eyebrows and muscles alone and feed you to babies _look, he just flushes and looks down.

Interesting.

After fussing over him a little more, everyone troops out of the room, Lydia and Allison both giving him hugs. Even Jackson lingers behind, saying a curt, "I'm glad you're okay," before trumping out, too. Ha. Stiles will never let him forget it.

Isaac nods at him before practically lifting Scott out of the couch and taking him out, too. Stiles feels a little reluctant to let him go, because he knows without Scott he'd probably he drowning in a ditch somewhere, but Scott is sleeping and content and shit, now he's alone with Derek.

Derek just fixes him with those really intense eyes, like _whoa, _(are they blue or green today?) and leans in close, murmuring, "I'm glad you're okay."

And oh. Um. What were they even fighting about?

Stiles blinks several times, his breath catching in his throat. He means to say, "Thanks, now why don't you stop leaning in because I feel like my heart is going to explode," but what comes out of his mouth is, "Your eyes are really pretty."

Derek looks surprised for once, but just laughs a little, his eyes crinkling up, and leans in even closer.

Stiles meets him in the middle.


End file.
